Control Issues
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: The theme is control. How Jane and Lisbon discuss it, well ... it's not by angry fighting and arguing. This one-shot starts deep in 'M' territory. Maybe it's PWP, but with an organizing theme. Warning! Adult sexual situations. Mild bondage. Mild backdoor play. If you don't like that, don't read this! Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.


"Your ha-, your hands, Pa—"

So large that one could wrap nearly half her body, his hand warmed her skin, fingers feathering low on her back, palm firm against her hip and a thumb caressing the skin above an ovary, a sensation he knew brought a nearly-uncontrollable passionate response. It was no different now as she tipped her pelvis toward him, restless and moaning.

"What about my hands, Lisbon?" His tongue drowned the last of her name as it plunged, deep and fleeting, into her mouth.

She could barely whisper a few syllables. "I lo-, love them. Don't stop . . . touching me."

"I won't . . . never want to stop . . ." Barely intelligible, because he couldn't get enough of her tender mouth and tongue, lips. The feel of her hips as they undulated against him, soft hair mixing with his course thatch. Bowing towards her, he felt the rupture when his mind freed his body, offering his balls for her snaking rub as she lifted her hips and opened her legs wide to feel them on her bare, wet flesh. There was only Teresa.

Passion infused Teresa, as rich as her blood, her body beginning to dance with his. Patrick had control she would never have. When he was like this, driving her as it suited him, shared ecstasy was always the result. It was a profound, indescribable experience. He understood her needs, everything about her, and they matched his as he led her body easily by instinct.

The softness, her taste, made him want more as his breath quickened and desire found a focal point in his mouth, ready to consume her. "Teresa!" he managed before taking her entire upper lip to anchor the insistent explorations of his tongue. Hungrily, she sucked everything he gave her, the texture of her tongue rubbing underneath his. He felt the low rumble as the furnace in his groin ignited, then drew his length very gently across her soft tuft and creamy belly, imagining what they looked like where they touched. "Let me up . . ."

She went still for him, soft little grunts punctuating the barely audible groaning beneath her breath.

He straddled her thighs and bent to her breasts, sliding his hands to mold and ply them to his lips and tongue. Aggressive with the nipples, his eyes closed as he sucked and tugged the hardened tips, curving his long fingers to feather the soft, buttery sides of the flesh in his hands. The kittenish sounds and breathy cries of her arousal transformed his lust into an act of passionate love.

The feeling brought her to orgasm in seconds, overwhelmed when he parted her labia with his cock to rub along her slippery clitoris. As soon as she began to arch, his mouth was on her below, licking and goring her with his tongue, slaking her moisture and humming his low satisfaction deep into her flesh.

She did her best to ride his tongue as he held it rigid for her, rubbing the front of his teeth on her clit as she moved, anything to add stimulation. Her cries turned loud and rhythmic. She was so close, nearly sobbing with want the as roar of another orgasm built. When he pulled his mouth away with a strong sucking sound, she gave a soft fretful cry. Sinking a finger inside, he felt her try to clench him, move faster. But he pulled out quickly, riding her own wet to the little bud of her ass where he circled and circled with a fingertip. She came apart under his mouth, loud and driven, digging her fingernails into his arms.

The feel of her wrinkled skin on his fingertip enflamed him with thoughts of entering her there, something he'd never asked for and wasn't ready to now. It would keep. He needed the swollen soft passage to her womb. And now!

Limp and smiling, Teresa turned easily in his hands as he rolled her to her stomach, pulling on her hips until she was on her hands and knees.

"Hold onto the headboard, darling."

"Don't be too rough, okay? I'm so relaxed. I don't know if I can even come again."

In reply, he kissed her neck and shoulder, his lips warm and pliant, the tip of his tongue blotting while he slowly entered hot, enfolding flesh, savoring every centimeter as she swallowed him entire. One hand gripping a hip, the other wrapped to make gentle love to her clitoris, now very relaxed and soft. He massaged it tenderly as he pulled nearly out and bent to feather her back with kisses.

She sighed and slumped, her hips jutting out. It was so relaxing.

An offering, he decided, and pulled free to begin nipping both cheeks, smiling as she tensed and squeaked, trying to wriggle away as he held fast. Pulling her up, he ran his tongue in the cleft of her sex, just once from the dip of her opening to her clit, now a firm little nub. Pressing his chest solidly against her back to restrict her movement, he guided himself back into her with a long rush, both of them groaning when he easily buried himself to the balls in her relaxed and pliant interior.

"Meet me, Teresa." Placing his hands next to hers on the headboard, he gave a powerful thrust.

So thick and long from the extremes of his arousal! The warm power of insistent, ardent pressure from his chest on her back freed something primal. She pushed onto every thrust, jutting her hips so far he that he had to comply when she wanted him to linger and roll inside her. He responded by bumping hard enough to lift her knees from the mattress until they came out from underneath to drop her flat on the stomach, arching her hips so that he could still fuck deep.

Imagining how he must look, back bowed as he pumped into her, damp golden curls jostled by the desperate thrusting, she wanted him, every bit of him!

Their bodies slipped into a rhythm that flowed from instinct as thought was swept away. On one of his long backstrokes, Teresa rose to her knees again and put her fingers on her clit as Patrick electrified her core, attuned to how she felt inside, her movements, how her cries sounded on the rhythm of her breath. When it seemed she would make herself come before he was ready, he pulled out and rolled her onto her back . . .

"No! No! Don't pull out . . . Patrick . . ."

. . . then, plunged into her on the next beat.

Teresa let out a high growl and wrapped her legs over his back, pulling him close to ravage his mouth in urgent abandon with her demanding kisses. His movement slowed, almost languid and she followed his lead, engaged in the quiet conversation of their joining until she gasped like hiccups and her back slowly pushed into a strong arch. Patrick adjusted the angle of his thrusts, squashing her clitoris with every slow, deep stroke and she groaned, tossing her head from side to side. Her sounds became breathy music, crooning to him of her desire to come and the frustration of her body's reluctance.

A sharp pain set everything loose at once, starting with a scream torn from her throat. He bit her nipple! It hurt! She was furious, driven to bite back but he had her pinned to the mattress with his shoulders and driving hips. When she stopped struggling, he rose up and bit the other nipple. This time she came, throbbing around his spilling cock, calling high in relief.

Trying to soothe her nipples with gentle licking required concentration he didn't have. He slipped into a gray sleep, only to be shaken awake when Lisbon found the strength to struggle from under him. Muscles limp, he managed to flop to his back and free her—"Sorry, sweetheart." -before drifting away again, her hand tenderly petting the resting wet flesh that was part of their pleasure.

In the kitchen later, sipping their respective brews, Lisbon clearly had something on her mind. "You bit me, Jane."

"Twice. You liked it." Jane noticed the vertical line that appeared between her brows. Uh-oh. A bit put out.

"It hurt. And don't tell me what I like."

"You came. Heavy. Before that, you couldn't. You were frustrated. I could hear it in your, uh, your moans. Anyway, I've bitten you before and you always liked it."

"Nibbled. There's a difference."

His lips closed and a bit tight, Jane moved his mouth to one side and then the other but decided not to speak. He took a sip of tea instead and waited t see if Lisbon would continue.

"You should have asked me."

"You were frustrated. I wanted to relieve you. And I did. Taking time to ask would have taken away the surprise that made you come."

"So you decided for me."

Jane reached across the table, wiggling his fingers as an invitation for her to take his hand.

She put her little one in it and squeezed. "I know you weren't trying to hurt me—"

"But I was, Teresa."

She cocked her head and looked at him, a little confused. "But . . . Patrick . . ."

"I wouldn't have if I'd known it would upset you this much. I suppose we could have discussed biting ahead of time, but we didn't and it was in the moment . . ."

Her big green eyes looked at him calmly in her pointed silence.

"Do you want me _never ever_ to bite you?"

"No. Not exactly. How you touched me . . . what you did . . . how can I argue with what you did when it, it was so satisfying? I'm not injured. And it's not like you broke the skin or bruised me. It just hurt, that's all, and it seemed like we should talk about it instead of you just assuming and then taking control and deciding what I needed."

"I would never break the skin of your nipple, Lisbon, never. It's too small and delicate. But you're so responsive and sensitive there. Hell. Me at your boobs is what made you come the first time last night."

"I know. I love you there. I just want to be sure you have some boundaries about it. Because I sure do!"

"I do. I'm sorry I scared you."

Lisbon got up and squirmed into Jane's lap, snuggling as his arms came around her. "I wasn't that scared, I guess, just worried you might go further if I didn't say something. I don't like sex that . . . that does damage."

"Of course not. Shifting her in his arms to look her in the eyes, he said somberly, "I don't either. And Teresa, telling me is always a good idea. I'll keep you safe, even from my teeth!" He nipped her earlobe playfully and was rewarded with a chuckle and a kiss on the cheek. "Now let's finish up and get to work. You know what they think when we come in late."

"Yes," she laughed. "And they're usually right!"

The team closed the case in a few days and, since it was Friday night, they decided to go out for closed case pizza this time, Cho's favorite neighborhood spot. Jane gravitated quickly to the old-fashioned foosball table and snapped down his quarters before joining the team for plenty of pies and beer.

Lisbon watched him go when his game came up. From the moment he took hold on the bars of little players, he was in the flow of the play, dancing over the handles to adjust his moves. Sometimes he barely flicked a couple of fingers for a play. Sometimes gripping tight and shoving hard. Sometimes working two bars single-handedly, he moved one bar with his wide palm while the nimble fingers operated the adjacent bar. He really was impressive to watch. Before long he was, of course, making side bets as player after player went down to his skill.

Her brows lifting over narrowed eyes and a sly smile, she got up to challenge him. He had no idea how many hours she'd spent in her youth playing foosball with her brothers and then at local watering holes at university. Hell, she'd played all the way through police training and early on as a rookie in San Francisco. Jane had no idea what was coming his way!

Jane caught her approach from the corner of his eye. Sauntering! Finishing off his opponent, he turned to watch Lisbon come to the game table, all swaying hips and bouncing dark waves of hair tapping her shoulders and back. Last he saw, she'd been lazily sipping tequila shots. Now her skin was softly flushed from the warmth of alcohol in her blood. It didn't hamper her gait but had forced her to remove her jacket and open a couple extra shirt buttons, her cleavage held forward by some irresistible underthing, rounds of freckled cream and edges of black lace flashing in and out of view as she rolled toward him on slim little legs and small boots. His body went on alert and he wondered if she was coming to take him home to bed.

Instead she slapped down four quarters. "I'd like a game."

"You?"

"Scared?" She looked calmly at his face. His eyes were darting to the places on her body that he loved, following her lines and knowing the form and features under her clothing. Good! A thrill of power ran up her spine, giving a cool sense of control. Susceptible.

Her cocky demeanor cleared his senses but he mistook the dilation of her eyes for desire. Smiling while stretching to clear his head, he extended an arm in invitation to the table. "Lets go."

Her attack was instantaneous, ears and muscles tuned to the dropping of the quarters, but eyes focused on the position of her players and hands poised to grip the bars.

Jane's eyes went wide as she put the ball in play. His low-level tactics didn't distract or fluster her. Chattering helped him focus during play, an outlet for excess tension. The constant verbal stream usually frustrated an opponent, but Lisbon didn't seem to even hear it, eyes only on the ball and all movement concentrated on the bars. It was she that distracted him, bent over the table with her plump cleavage flowing as she played, the flesh rippling with her movements, strands of curling hair brushing over her pale, lightly freckled bosom.

Lisbon stifled a small smile. Her position and movement were natural, not posed to distract her opponent. Jane was a fierce player, able to provide a formidable challenge while keeping his eyes on play only three-quarters of the time. He caught her smile and marshaled his resolve to watch the game and not fantasize about his lady's pink-tipped breasts, wonderful as they were. She'd pay for this later when he was free to play with them.

Whether it was the alcohol or simple muscle fatigue, Lisbon's energy flagged after four games, winning two. It was time to give herself an edge with Jane in his most susceptible, soft little underbelly.

"Tie-breaker?" She smiled at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Sure you're up to it?"

Reaching into her pocket, she gave a soft snort and walked around the table to him, sliding her quarters toward his hand and the slots on his side. "If you'll show me that move you do with your fingers." She looked into his eyes and smiled softly. "You know how I like your fingers."

Unable to stop his heart from leaping, he breathed through it. "Vixen," he said under his breath. Then louder, "Sure. Tell me what you want to see and I'll show it to you."

At their nearby table, the team elbowed one another to watch what was happening at foosball. Wiley was a special shade of pink and his sparkling eyes took in every move and look. Sex was going on, right there! Vega's jaw dropped, her face a moue of interested disapproval. She couldn't take her eyes away. Abbott grinned, shook his head, drew on his beer and watched the dance unfold. These two sizzled together, always entertaining to watch. Even Cho had a smile on his face, chuckling and wondering who would psych whom for the win.

Sidling over to Jane, Lisbon wedged a hip underneath his and pushed her cushy bottom out just enough to back him up. In answer, he pulled flush, giving her a little bump, transferring a bit of his excitement to her in return. None of their movement was ostentatious or baldly lewd. Sensuous. Knowing. Quietly enticing. Not burlesque.

But the FBI agents caught all the nuances. Wiley coughed when he aspirated a little beer. Vega snorted what sounded like contempt. Such a display among colleagues! She looked at Abbott who had set down his slice and leaned forward, a quiet smile barely breaking. Cho glanced surreptitiously at the others and then back to the foosball table. He always knew they couldn't be brother and sister.

Lisbon ground gently into Jane and told him the play she wanted to learn. Setting her hands on the bars, he covered and guided them until she felt the flow of the move in both hands. When she was ready to resume play, she turned in his arms, pressing to leave a tiny kiss on his jaw and whisper, "Thank you, sweetie." Then she slid the firm pressure of her breasts along his chest and went to her side of the table. She caught the covert movement and heard a susurrus of paper money changing hands at the team's table and wondered what else they had bets on. Patrick didn't know it, but she was in for the long game tonight, not just foosball.

Jane no longer particularly cared if he won or not. He just wanted to get Lisbon home to undress, touch and make love to her. She trounced him and their table cheered, then got up to congratulate her, clapping and patting her on the shoulder.

Abbott shouldered Jane. "Great game, huh?"

"Yes. Teresa played it very well." A bit miffed, his brow was slightly drawn.

Abbott chuckled. "She did."

Jane brought her jacket from the chair, slipped her into it, settled her hair and took her arm firmly, directing her to the door. "Home, now?" he said low into her ear.

"As quickly as possible."

Jane smirked. He'd have her wrapped around him and screaming in minutes!

He drove them home, his hand inching up her thigh until his fingers could flick between her legs over her pants.

"You can drive and do that?" Lisbon widened her legs.

"Yes. Easily." He was scratching the fabric with his nails now. Lower.

Too much! "Your fingers are too nimble. I'll never last until we get home." She brought her legs together, squeezing his hand out. Rubbing higher with the flat of his fingers a few times, he took his hand away. "Don't think I can control you _and_ the car, huh?"

She snorted. "I _know_ you can't control _me_."

"You're pretty high on yourself after winning that last game. By cheating with your womanly wiles." This last he emphasized by over-acting with a simpering voice and batting eyelashes. "Rubbing against me. Making me hard. Flashing your cleavage."

"You're asking for it." Not looking at him should be enough of a warning.

"Admit it. You cheated!" Something in him wanted to wheedle.

"Oh my god, Patrick. Losing really got to you, didn't it?"

"I didn't care by that time, anyway. I practically threw the game just to get you home and under me."

"Oh. So, you really _were_ in control, then. You lost on purpose to rush the opportunity to fuck me."

"Practically."

"Practically, but not really. What really happened is . . . _you lost!_" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"When we get home, I'll put that tongue to good use!"

"You don't control _this_ tongue!"

"No, but I control this one—" He stuck out the wide, wet piece of agile muscle. "And I know just how to give it to you, bend you to my will." He wiggled the pink tip.

They both broke into raucous laughter.

Lisbon managed, "This is an insane argument! We must be half-drunk."

"We haven't had anything to drink since we started playing foosball. I know it's insane. But admit it. It's getting you hot, isn't it?" He leered and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Strangely, yes." Reaching between his legs, she found him stiff. "I'll be controlling _this_."

Jane pulled into the driveway and they hurried to the front door, elbowing and jostling, shoving and pushing to get there first. Lisbon tripped Jane and he fell flat on his stomach with a loud, "Oof!" He got up and ran, grabbing her jacket and forcing her to her bottom on the lawn so he could leap ahead.

When he got to the door, he spread his arms across it and said loudly, "I beat you!"

Lisbon quickly keyed the door, turned the knob, ducked under his arm and went inside. "_I _beat _you_."

"Cheating. Again."

"By whose rules?"

Jane squeak-laughed through his closed lips, "The Universal Code of Foot-Racing."

"You idiot. There's no such thing."

"There should be. For cheating foot-racers!"

He closed the door and pushed her to the wall, bowing his back to kiss her passionately and rub his aroused flesh hard against her pubis. "And you know what happens to cheating foot-racers, don't you?"

"Something good?"

He opened her pants, slipped a hand inside her panties and used a long finger on the sensitive nub, rubbing it on the side like a bow to rosin. Slippery wet rosin. "That's right!" He made a hungry sound deep in his chest as she undulated against his finger.

"You're a lot of fun to play with, Patrick." Lisbon's jacket dropped to the floor. Jane took the hint and unbuttoned her blouse. It dropped to the floor as he pulled her bra up and freed her breasts. His intent was to pull the bra over her head but the sight of the round, succulent globes drove him to kiss and suckle her instead, listening to her soft sounds of pleasure.

"Jane," she panted. "Take it off me." She raised her arms to make it easier for him.

Instead, he filled his hands with her. And as much of his mouth as he could. Kneading and thumbing, panting for breath in hungry satisfaction. Finally, he stopped when her desperate movements made devouring her too difficult.

"Patrick," she grunted. "Pull this damn thing off!"

He obliged easily, then dropped to his knees, propping her feet one by one to remove her boots. When he had her pants and underwear off, his mouth went to the tantalizing apex of her thighs, inches away, replacing his finger with his tongue and licking until Teresa had to put her hands on his head in order to stand.

"Stop. Stop." She was breathless. "Take me to bed. I don't want to stand anymore."

"I want to take you against this wall. I'll hold you up." He reached to cradle her hips.

"No. I'm too tired. Let's relax on the bed."

It was a relief to be off her feet when he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, laying her on her back and positioning to enter her. She slid from under him. "I'll be back in a minute."

Patrick Jane was a sexual freight train! He knew how to arouse her so fast and to such a feverish pitch that she wanted whatever he was giving her—that minute! And it was always addictively good. He drove her to heights of ecstasy she had never known.

Her breathing calmed and she looked in the mirror. Hair tousled as if she'd been asleep, mouth red and kiss-stung, nipples like tiny, rain-swollen rosebuds. The lips of her sex were puffy with arousal, rubbing each other, the sensation indescribably lustful.

She left the bathroom determined. She would run the show tonight and drive Patrick to the brink of madness, waiting for her to give him fulfillment.

Watching for her, he smiled as she came toward the bed.

"You're beautiful, Teresa. I can't stop looking at you sometimes. Especially naked."

A sly smile, looking into his eyes. "I bet." Reaching across his legs, she helped him slide them off the bed and he sat up, erection bobbing high. She wrapped an easy hand and stroked a couple of times.

He covered her hand to stop her movement, gazing into her eyes. "Not always for sex. Because you're so beautiful to look at, your shape and the graceful way you walk and do things- and everything about you."

She kissed him then, covering his throat and the sensitive places under his collarbone near his arms. Her tongue was warm, a caress. Patrick's excitement built, knowing she was positioning his body to make love to him with her mouth, an exquisite experience. He stopped talking as she sank to her knees. Knowing she liked plenty of room for this, he opened his legs wider.

Teresa took him slowly to the edge of passionate madness, bringing him to the brink and backing him away several times until he was gripping the sheets and groaning for relief. Finally, he reached under her arms to pull her onto the bed with him. She slipped from his grip and he caught her, swinging her to the mattress and onto her back. She scrambled off the bed immediately and came to his side. He swung a long arm around her back to pull her on top of him and that's when she saw the scarves draped over the headboard, bunched at the post.

Ducking her head under the capturing arm, she pulled a scarf from the headboard, looping it as she had hundreds of times to wear at her neck. Before Jane could bring his arm back, she caught his wrist with the scarf and swiftly tied it tight to the bedpost.

Lisbon? Bind him? He grinned widely and gave her a swashbuckler's wink, swinging his other arm as he rolled to his side to reach her.

Another scarf looped and at the ready, she caught him on the swing, captured the wrist and pulled the scarf taught.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

She didn't answer, only watched his movements like a panther, smiling wickedly. She was trained for this.

Jane's body was quiet, still surprised and watching her in amused fascination. But she had a very strange, very focused and determined look in her eye as she moved to the bottom of the bed. Stubbornly holding himself in place to upset her balance as she reached the end of his bond's length, he grunted when Lisbon busted some kind of cop twist with the scarf that made him want to raise his shoulder so that his arm would not be pulled from the socket. It was enough room for her to make it around the foot of the bed, give him a wide berth and tie the scarf to the other bedpost.

"Balance of power, Jane. I'm going to drive you out of your mind."

The surge of lust to his cock made him feel desperate to put his hand there. He groaned and shifted his hips to show her his need. "Lisbon, you already did that with your mouth! Please. Come here and finish me off. Sit on me. Use your hand. Your mouth. Anything. Please."

Lisbon crawled high on the bed to deliver an arousing wet kiss. Jane was dripping and begged her to give him another one like that, lower down.

"Don't worry. I know how to get you there. I know what you like, what you want."

"Then . . . then, give it to me before I pass out."

"I'll give you what I think you need . . . at the time I think you need it. You'll enjoy it more that way."

Jane held his breath for a moment. "Is this . . . Is this about me nipping you?"

"_Biting_ me. But, no. We settled that. This is about control, and I want it just now. You're bigger than me. You can make me feel so good I yield for the pleasure. I have to balance the odds."

"But . . . but . . . we haven't discussed this."

"Heat of the moment. I want you to come in the most satisfying way. And you will. Trust me."

"Trust you? Who _are_ you, vixen?" He was grinning again. Teresa appeared cool and calculating but he saw the glisten, the shimmering quiver inside her upper thighs. She'd come in seconds if she would let him inside her.

She climbed over his body, nudged him up and slid onto his rigid shaft, sighing, then went still. "I think at least part of you remembers me very well."

Her sudden heat and softness fried his scalp. "Oh god, yes. Lisbon." He started moving his hips and she pulled off.

"No! Oh, come on. I'm getting frustrated!"

"I know. It's part of the plan."

"Where does that leave you? I'll come in seconds!"

"I won't mind. It's about making it good for you, anyway."

Suddenly twisting his hips, Jane flopped her to the side and wrapped both of his legs around her. Slipping low, she captured his cock with her mouth and sucked on the head, swirling her tongue around the tip. Patrick opened his legs, groaning with relief, thinking that Teresa had conceded. She was off the bed in a flash and had his ankles bound and fastened at the footposts in no time. She reseated herself on his stomach, rubbing her wet sex on his belly.

Standing tall behind her, Jane's erection rolled against her lower back and the globes of her ass. It was sensual beyond belief and she moved faster, soft hungry grunts as she reached a crescendo of stimulation. Jane suddenly yelled and lurched. She felt his hot spray land at the middle of her back and tickle as it slid down, driving her to curl in effort until her orgasm took control, her sides heaving her release. Falling on his mouth, she took him in a kiss, telling him how good he had made her feel, how much she loved him.

Patrick could only sigh, "Oh . . . oh . . . oh," as he came down, kissing Teresa as urgently as she did him. Still bound, he found he was not finished, could not lose his desire to see her sex after the friction he'd felt on his belly. "Let me see you."

There was only one position that would accommodate his request and still keep him somewhat under her control. He would agree to the rest, tonight. "Your arms must be tired." Easing his wrists out of restraint, she massaged and kissed them until he smiled.

"That feels good. I won't try to take over."

"I know. But I'm leaving your ankles fastened. Maybe it will be fun."

"I'm sure it will be."

"Scoot down the bed a bit. I want to show you. Very close." When there was enough room, she kneeled, widely straddling his head and tucking her feet under his arms. "Can you see?"

"Yes. You're beautiful, Teresa. Bright pink, wet, full and inviting. Your scent! It's hot and sexy. I want to taste you!"

Ah! She could feel his warm breath wash over her vulnerable wet flesh. "Just look, right now."

"I want to use my fingers – to see everything."

"All right. Just to see."

Supporting herself on the headboard, she widened her stance and felt the ends of his exploring fingers roll across her skin, tracing her structure, lifting folds, spreading her. His touch was so exciting, so thorough! "Touch me now, touch my clitoris, rub me. Just slow and light. I just want to feel you touching me."

"Ooooohhh, Teresa. You're in charge of sex from now on." Every part of her fascinated him and made him long to put his lips and tongue there. Curling a finger, he rubbed the stiff knot of pink with the side, hooking it in the crook on each downstroke, rolling his knuckle over it on the up.

Heat flowed from her core, wetting it more. Then, a sudden, intense fantasy of rubbing herself on his waiting mouth. "Do you still want to kiss me?"

"Mmmmmm, please." He was breathing hard, voice a groaning whisper as his hips shifted restlessly.

When she lowered to him he licked gently, long soft laps to relax and ease her closer.

"Oh, god, Jane. I want you to make me come."

"Rub on my lips. Kiss me back."

She pressed against his mouth and pushed a kiss there, then several more as his tongue snaked her clit.

"I need my hands, to hold you fast. I want you, Teresa. I want to make you come."

"Yes. Your hands." Her breath was harsh and lusty. "Put your hands on me."

He gripped under her thighs, a couple fingers over her ass and pulled her close, tasting her eagerly, then ravenously as a wolf. When he concentrated on her clit, suckling it out of its hood and tonguing the tip, she broke apart with a repeated, wailing cry and convulsed as he kissed the inside of her thighs.

"C'mere, baby. Are you crying? C'mere."

She snuggled into his arms. "I'm not crying. You, you just feel so good. You make me feel so good. Sounds just come out of me."

"I love your sounds."

"Patrick?"

"Hmmm?"

"Maybe it's not important who's in control."

"Sometimes it is. We'll figure it out. You're nice when you're in control."

Teresa chuckled. "Stop."

"I love you, Teresa."

"I know. It's wonderful, how you love me."

"Are you going to untie my ankles, now?"

"Not yet."

"I guess this is my lucky night!" They both chuckled softly.

He was relaxed and soft. "I love handling you when you're like this, so pink and sweet."

"Enjoy it, because the way you touch me, I won't be soft for long. It's been awhile since I sprayed your back. And your plump little pussy on my face, so pretty and sweet. Oops! There I go!" Her touch never failed to enflame him.

She petted him lightly from top to bottom.

"You have such a graceful, sensual touch, Teresa."

He moved against her hand and she wrapped her fingers around him, watching his movements, testicles shifting over the peeking low rounds of his ass squashing rhythmically. She wanted to kiss him there and he gasped in surprise, feeling her tongue, a sweet and warm, wet probe, working down until it wiggled into his cheeks.

"Ah! Ah. Jesus! Teresa, that feels so good."

She lifted her head, a thoughtful smile on her fiercely blushing face. She slipped a finger where her tongue had been and rubbed a little, pushing further and further, then looked at him, eyes round and dark.

"Oh, my love. Do you want to make love to me? Back there?"

Nodding her head, she looked into his eyes. "Yeh." Her fall of wavy hair bounced on her shoulders. "Do . . . you, do you want . . ."

So shy and beautiful. Patrick finished the question she couldn't quite ask. "Do I want you to touch me there . . ."

Her hair bounced on her shoulders again.

"Yes. You excite me, Teresa. I'd love for you to touch me there, anywhere. Get some lubricant for your fingers. You'll feel so good. You're making me shiver. Please. Hurry."

That brought a wide smile and a sweet, popping kiss. Jane let a length of her hair flow through his open hand. "You'll have to untie me, though, so I can roll over for you."

"You're calm enough now." She quickly freed him and fished around in her night table for the lubricant.

"You make me feel like a very lucky man, Teresa."

"You are. I guess I'm your bad girl for the night." She smiled shyly over her shoulder.

Something about her words and manner made him feel very tender and protective and just a little sad. Putting a hand to her rump, he stroked gently there. "Me, too?"

"You like that?"

"Love it. Sometimes. Not as regular fare. You?"

"I think sometime when you're in control and stuffing me with orgasms, I'm curious enough to be persuaded. But not if it hurts."

"You know I don't want to damage your body in anything we do."

"I know. I'll trust you when the time comes."

Lisbon had the tube in one hand and the cap in the other. "I, I don't really know what to do. I've always been the one batting men away from my butt. Everything they tried to do, hurt."

Jane laughed out loud and then pulled her close, embracing her with the length of his body, kissing her tenderly. "Just make love to me and, when you feel like it, give me that slippery finger. I'll crow for you. I love my dirty girl."

"I want to fuck you right now. You're making me ache."

"Please. A guy likes a little dirty foreplay first!"

"Will it make you come?"

"Depends how good you are at it—"

"Stop teasing. I asked a serious question."

"Probably not. But I will be a very hard and very excited fuck."

Deep inside, her womb thumped. "Ohhhh. That's just what I want. Kiss me now."

As he kissed her, then kissed his way to her breasts, Teresa caressed his stiffening flesh. It was such a beautiful organ, his especially. Everything about it was right for her, inciting lust whether inside or outside her body. He sighed loudly, and passionately kissed her neck and throat. When she reached behind his balls, he opened his legs to make it easier and she was overcome by an urge to kiss him there. He started moaning as his breath deepened, sputtering as she licked and then nibbled.

Patrick stroked her hips and thighs as she went exploring, first with a dry finger, just feeling the nature of his flesh at the opening. He groaned, "Ohhhh, Teresa, you feel so good."

Squeezing lubricant on her finger, she experimented with rubbing and circling, pressing, to see what he liked. She felt him take hold of his cock. She massaged and squeezed his sexy buttocks, pulling a cheek so she could keep her fingers busy. His scent here was hot and too tangy but it excited her.

Patrick moaned her name and his hand moved faster over his lengthening erection. Too quick, she was sure, so she grabbed his wrist and gently pulled his hand away. "Not yet, love."

Picking his head up, eyes glittering in the low light, he looked over his shoulder, grunting softly. At that moment, she penetrated him and he gasped and then gave a low moan. "Teresa!" he whispered and took her free hand, setting it on his thigh and squeezing for comfort against a strong urge to reach for himself again and come.

She slowed her movement, but didn't remove her finger. "I'm not hurting you . . . ?"

"No. You feel exquisite. My mind just flies away."

Tucking her finger gently under the outer ring of muscle, she massaged him full circle. The sounds he made resonated deep in her core and she was beyond ready for him. She had to have him.

"Let me on top of you, Patrick."

Her simple words of desire made him want to surrender everything. Rolling to his back, he reached to her, helping her to mount him. His back arched with pleasure as she pushed him into her luscious, swollen interior glove. It gripped him immediately and he heard her gasp, felt her begin to move, her voice high and bouncing as she rode. It skewered his brain and he urged her to ride harder until they called out their passion, and then their release, to one another, loudly, joyfully.

They slept in sheets tangled with scarves, the open tube of lubricant slowly leaking to the side somewhere, its cap the niggling princess's pea under Jane's hip. He finally got up to search for it, set it on the bed table and cuddled against the queen in his life, still sound asleep. Tenderly, he brushed the curves and valleys of her form until they lulled him to sleep.


End file.
